Thanks to the rise of stand-up comedy in China in the recent decade, “roasting (吐槽 tǔcáo)” has become a recognized form of verbal art in the country. Someone skilled in this practice is described as having a “toxic tongue (毒舌 dúshé),” which is often a compliment—an expression of admiration for one’s keen observational skills and elevated eloquence.

While the term “roasting” is a neologism in China, the country has had more than its share of notorious toxic-tongued individuals throughout history. These figures unleashed tirades—sometimes scathing, sometimes funny, and sometimes both—on everyone, from friends to colleagues to emperors. Some gained fame through their roasting, while others faced dire consequences.

One example of inflammatory rhetoric can be captured by the modern term “阴阳怪气 (yīnyáng guàiqì),” meaning to express mockery or ridicule indirectly. Sarcasm, in other words. Zuo Maodi (左懋第), a diplomat during the late Ming dynasty (1368 – 1644), was a master of this.

Serving the Ming court in exile after the Qing took the capital, Zuo went on a diplomatic mission to negotiate a truce. He was detained by the Manchu prince Dorgon, who hoped to flip him. There, Zuo met with his former colleague, Hong Chengchou (洪承畴), who was a renowned Ming general. Previously thought to have died in the Battle of Song-Jin, it turned out that Hong had surrendered to the Qing, and had now come to persuade Zuo to do the same.

Zuo did not hesitate to ridicule Hong mercilessly. According to the History of Hair (《发史》), a historical text compiled by the Qing dynasty (1616 – 1911) historian Hu Yunyu (胡蕴玉), Zuo said: “Is this a ghost? General Hong died heroically at Songshan with his dignity intact. The emperor offered him sacrifices on nine altars (the highest posthumous honor for an official). How did he come back to life?” Hong was deeply ashamed and left Zuo alone.

Reductio ad absurdum—“reduction to absurdity”—has also been a notable tactic. Instead of pointing out another’s mistakes, the rhetorical aggressor will assume the other’s position until it leads to an absurd conclusion. This was often used against monarchs, since this was not considered a direct offense. The Records of the Three Kingdoms (《三国志》), the official record of the Three Kingdoms period (220 – 280), contains such an example.

At the time, famines struck frequently, and to save grain, the government prohibited the private brewing of alcohol. But some regions took the law too far. In the State of Shu, officials argued that anyone found with brewing equipment at home should be penalized, whether they had brewed alcohol or not. Jian Yong (简雍), a minister of Shu, thought this regulation was unreasonable, and tried to persuade Liu Bei (刘备), the ruler of Shu, to overturn it.

One day, when Jian and Liu saw a man and a woman walking down the road, Jian said to Liu: “These two are about to commit adultery, why don’t you arrest them?” Liu was surprised and asked why he said so. Jian replied: “They have the tools for committing adultery, just like those who have the equipment to brew alcohol.” Hearing this, Liu understood Jian’s point and pardoned the people who had been convicted of possessing brewing equipment.

And then there was the Eastern Han (25 – 220) scholar Mi Heng (祢衡), whose cantankerousness—occasionally expressed as wit—led to his downfall. According to the Book of the Later Han (《后汉书》), Mi was seeking a government position in Xudu (present-day Xuchang, Henan province). The Eastern Han court had just moved its capital here from Luoyang, attracting talent from across the country to serve in the administration. Mi had a very high opinion of himself and often chastised the rich, famous, and talented. Suffice it to say, his job-hunting wasn’t very successful.

When asked why he didn’t volunteer to serve ministers Chen Qun (陈群) or Sima Lang (司马朗), both important politicians at the time, he replied, “Why should I follow someone with minute jobs like slaughtering pigs and selling wine?” People then asked his opinion of other high-profile officials in the city, like Xun Yu (荀彧) and Zhao Rong (赵融). Mi Heng said, “Xun has a countenance that is only good for presiding over funerals, while Zhao knows nothing but how to eat meat, which is perfect for managing the kitchen.” (He was calling them ugly and fat.)

Through his (perhaps only) friend, respected scholar Kong Rong (孔融), Mi was eventually recommended to the warlord Cao Cao (曹操). But when summoned, Mi claimed sick leave. Annoyed, Cao appointed Mi as a drum officer, responsible for banging the drums at court. During a banquet, when Mi refused to change into his uniform, one of Cao’s subordinates rebuked him for disrespect. In response, Mi stripped naked in front of all the guests before putting on the uniform.

Kong scolded Mi and told him to apologize to Cao. Mi agreed but went to Cao’s house instead, striking the floor repeatedly with a wooden staff while cursing him loudly. Extremely angered, Cao sent him away to serve other officials, but Mi behaved just the same. At the age of 26, Mi was executed for insolence by Huang Zu (黄祖), the governor of Jiangxia, who Mi was serving at the time.

In the following dynasties, there were two figures who pushed subversion to the extreme by publicly lambasting emperors.

The first is Luo Binwang (骆宾王), a poet from the Tang dynasty (618 – 907). In 684, Empress Wu Zetian (武则天) ruled as regent, preparing for her ascension to the throne. Military general Xu Jingye (徐敬业) revolted against Wu in Yangzhou, and Luo joined Xu’s camp, writing a denunciation titled “The Manifesto Against Wu Zetian (《讨武曌檄》).” This article critiqued Wu in all aspects, from her origins and character to her personal life. It began by stating that Wu “was originally Emperor Taizong’s concubine...over time she disregarded ethical norms and had a relationship with Crown Prince Li Zhi (who later became Emperor Gaozong).” It continued by describing her as “having a venomous heart and a cruel nature, associating with treacherous people, harming loyal officials, killing brothers and sisters, plotting against the monarch, and poisoning the Queen.” Finally, Luo concluded that Wu was “harboring malicious intentions and plotting to usurp the throne.”

The entire text is well-structured and ornately written, and it is considered an immortal work in the history of Chinese prose. When Wu read this manifesto, she was not angered by Luo’s words, but impressed by his talent. She sighed and told her court officials: “It is the fault of the prime minister for not employing such talent.”

Another figure who openly criticized the emperor was Hai Rui (海瑞), an official of the Ming dynasty. In 1565, Hai submitted a memorial—a formal document written for emperors—to Emperor Jiajing, accusing him of being superstitious about Daoism, delusional in his pursuit of immortality, and negligent in handling state affairs. He said the entire realm was plagued by corrupt officials and weak generals, and blamed poverty on the emperor’s misdeeds. The document became widely circulated not only for its detailed and earnest suggestions, but also because of a pun on the emperor’s name: “Jiajing, every household under your reign is stripped clean.” (Jiajing sounds the same as the words for “clean home/household (家净 jiā jìng),” meaning “without financial resources.”)

Upon receiving the memorial, Emperor Jiajing was furious and threw Hai in prison. However, he did not execute him. Later, his successor, Emperor Longqing, released Hai and restored his official position. Subsequently, Hai was promoted multiple times, becoming a highly respected official and a role model.